Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

" I promise you, it's not up here." Corey glared down at her from the top of the ladder he'd found stored in a downstairs closet in the library.

Giving up hope, Josie breathed in and let the breath out in a huff. "All right. Just get down from there before you fall and crack open your head. Again."

The only thing worse than losing the compass, would be losing the compass and having to drive Corey to the hospital and then explain to his mother how and why he'd fallen off an eight-foot ladder in the archives room.

"Which is exactly why you shouldn't have been standing on a damn rolling desk chair," he chastised, glaring back at her as he climbed down.

"It wasn't a rolling chair." She scowled.

"It had wheels," he said, twisting to shoot her a glare when she wished he'd just concentrate on not slipping and falling the remaining four feet.

" Two . Two wheels. That's like nothing," she defended.

"Zero wheels is nothing. Two wheels are two and make it a rolling chair," he spat as he reached the ground. "And we've looked for your compass, just like we agreed. So now we need to call?—"

"We didn't look in all the filing cabinets yet," she said, rushing to cut him off.

"Why would it be in a filing cabinet if it was on a shelf yesterday?" he asked.

"To protect it from the light. Or the air. I don't know. I'm not an antiques expert. Just look." She moved to the nearest cabinet and yanked the drawer open.

As Corey moved past her, he sent her a frown. "You might want to be a little more gentle about opening those drawers. If that old thing really is in there, you flinging it open like that isn't going to do it any good."

"It's not an old thing. It's the founder's compass," she grumbled mainly to herself.

"I still think someone took it to get it polished for the event or something and you're panicking for nothing."

She swiveled to frown at him. "You don't polish an object that old. The patina adds to the value."

His dark brows cocked up as he grumbled, "I thought you weren't an antiques expert."

"You don't have to be an expert. Everybody knows that."

" Everybody knows that ," he said in an unflattering imitation of her.

She slammed the drawer out of frustration. Part from not finding the compass but mostly from being forced to search for it with her nemesis.

Sharing a secret with him—as well as a space this small—was the last thing she could handle right now.

He shot her another glance laden with accusation and judgement at the sound of the metal cabinet banging.

"It's not in there," she said preemptively in her own defense.

"Could be in the one below that one," he said, a cocky know-it-all lilt to his voice.

"I thought you said it's not going to be in a cabinet anyway."

"I still think that but you don't apparently so…" He left the rest of the sentence unspoken but she knew what he wanted to say— stop banging the drawers closed like a spoiled child .

Ugh. Even when he didn't say something annoying he still managed to annoy her.

But with a situation this dire hanging over her head, even annoyance at Corey couldn't compete and hold her attention. She let out a groan and then ran both hands down her face.

"What am I going to do?" she groaned.

She'd said it more to herself than to him but he turned to look at her anyway. And then, to her horror, he moved closer. Heading right for her. Crossing the short distance with those damn long legs of his.

What was he doing?

Did he think she needed a hug or something? Was he going to?—

She froze, eyes wide as he reached out… and rubbed a thumb along her brow.

As she stared up at him in horror, he grabbed both of her hands, turned them palm up and said simply, "Dust."

When she could think again, she glanced down and saw what he was talking about. Her hands were filthy from her search. And no doubt she'd rubbed all that grime on her face just now.

"Oh. Thanks." Her voice sounded breathless. Why did her voice sound breathless? And why was her heart pounding faster?

"Sure," he said with a nod, then turned and went back to open the next drawer in the cabinet.

After their search got to the final drawer of the final file cabinet, Corey leaned against the ugly metal piece of furniture. As casually as a GQ model.

He leveled that Lothario gaze on her, pressed his lips together and raised one dark brow.

She knew what he was saying without him even saying it. His damn handsome face said it all. It was time to make that call she'd been avoiding since arriving this morning and discovered the compass missing.

As if on cue, her cell vibrated in her pocket. She jumped. Was it Corey's mom? Did she somehow know Josie had lost the town's most precious possession?

Maybe it was good news. Her saying the compass was back from…wherever…and she was going to drop it off.

There was only one thing to do. She pulled the cell out of her pocket and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was Bailey.

Josie glanced at Corey. "It's my friend Bailey—" She remembered Corey wouldn't know her by that name and said, "Jane Knowles. From high school. She changed her name?—"

"Take it," he said, not looking like he cared what name Bailey did or didn't go by. "I'm gonna run across the street to the gas station and grab something cold to drink. You want something?"

From him? Not really. But she was really hot and thirsty.

"Yes, please," she said as she tapped the cell's screen. "Bailey. Hi."

As Bailey returned the greeting, Corey mouthed, "Dr. Pepper?"

How the hell did he know her favorite soda from her youth, let alone remember it from back then? Not questioning it, she just nodded.

Things were much too weird. The compass was missing. She was going to be in so much trouble. And she'd spent all morning with the man who acted like he didn't remember breaking her teenage heart but totally remembered her favorite drink.

"Josie?"

"Um, sorry. Someone was here. They're gone now."

"I asked how it's going," Bailey repeated.

"Good. Great. Couldn't be better."

"Uh, oh. Spill."

"What?" Josie squeaked. "What are you talking about?"

"Josie, we live together. I've known you almost forever. I know when you're stressed."

Giving up the ruse, Josie said in a whoosh, "Oh my God, Bailey. Everything is a mess."

"Tell me."

Bailey was right. She knew Josie too well. She was going to have to explain the whole compass disaster. She had no choice.

Josie opened her mouth to spill all about the historical society's trust in her, and how she'd somehow screwed up and lost the very item she was there to document, when something stopped her.

A sixth sense maybe. A gut feeling. Whatever it was, at the last moment she pivoted and instead said, "I might have taken on too much by promising I could get the town's anniversary event up and running in less than three weeks."

Bailey, ever the cheerleader, said, "You can do it."

Josie laughed. "Sell enough tickets to cover all of the expenses and make enough extra for the historical society to pay for the bronze statue of the founder they want to commission for the center of town? I'm not so sure."

That little tidbit about the financial goal for the celebration being the erection of a founder's statue had been left out of their meeting the other night. Josie had discovered it on her own in an old post on the Facebook page no one in the historical society could update because the only person with the log-in information had died.

"Oh," Bailey said, less enthusiastic than before. "That's a lot for them to expect of you all alone. The historical society should be helping you, right? Are they?"

"Um…"

"Josie! Have you even asked them? Delegated what you need help with?"

"No." Delegating wasn't her strong suit. And for two days she'd been too busy with the compass. Researching it yesterday. Trying to find it today…

"Josie! You need to," Bailey reprimanded.

The full weight of the task at hand, the task which she hadn't been devoting enough time to because of the damn compass, pressed upon her.

Josie squeezed her eyes closed for a second then said, "I know. I will."

"You'll get it done. You're the most diligent and organized person I know," Bailey continued. "If anyone can motivate the old ladies in town to pull off a miracle, it's you."

Josie let out a scoff. "Tell my family that. They all think I'm a screw-up."

"They do not?—"

"They do. And please, Bailey. Do me a favor. Don't tell my brother how in the weeds I am on this event."

"Um…"

Josie didn't like the sound of that.

There was a rustling on the line and then Quinn said, "Josie, not telling me isn't going to help you fix your mess." He sighed. "You know what I've always said about overpromising and underdelivering. Why did you agree to take this on to begin with?"

"I'm so sorry! You were on speaker phone," Bailey called from somewhere near Quinn, who'd obviously grabbed the cell.

"You're supposed to tell someone when they're on speakerphone!" Josie called back.

"That's it. We're coming home," Quinn announced.

"What? No, don't?—"

"I'm due a leave. I can get away for a couple of weeks. I'll put in a request. We can get right on a flight."

"But Bailey?—"

"Needs to rest her voice. Xander's recording schedule gave her freaking nodes," Quinn revealed. "Maybe me being in New York will have him reevaluating his priorities, because right now, Bailey's health isn't one of them."

Josie wasn't exactly sure what nodes were but they'd sure pissed off Quinn. She remembered the term from back in her stage crew days. The actresses in the musicals were always talking about nodes and worried about getting them. Whatever they were, they weren't good.

"Bailey, are you okay?" she asked.

"I'll be fine," she called.

"Stop yelling. You're supposed to be resting your voice," Quinn chastised. "In fact, no more talking or phone calls between the two of you. Texts only. We'll get the first flight out that we can."

"Seriously, Quinn. Don't?—"

"Josie. This is non-negotiable. You can't handle this on your own. We're available to help. Case closed. I'll text you when we have a flight."

He disconnected the call and she scowled, hearing his harsh words echo in her head. "You can't handle this on your own."

Ugh. He was disappointed in her, convinced she was a screw up, and he only knew half the truth.

Wait until he arrived and learned about the missing compass.

She sighed. Quinn was a force of nature. There was no stopping him. Her only hope was that this trip had more to do with him keeping Bailey out of the recording studio until she healed and less to do with this event.

That had to be it.

Quinn didn't care about the town's anniversary. Knowing him and his overprotective nature when it came to Bailey, the only reason for this trip back East was to make sure Bailey didn't get lured back into the recording studio. It had nothing to do with her or helping with the event. And that was fine with her.

Let him spend his time chastising Xander and babying Bailey—and maybe taking care of the two tiny terrors back at the house. Having help with the kitten care would be a blessing. Then she could fully concentrate on dealing with her own disaster.

She was still holding the cell in her hand when Corey opened the door. He took one look at her face and asked, "Everything okay?"

"Yup. Peachy. Quinn's coming home."

Corey lifted a brow as he handed her the icy cold soda. "That'll be nice, right?"

"Thanks," she said as she cracked open the cap. "And he's coming home because he thinks I'm going to screw up the event. And he doesn't even know about the missing compass yet."

"Oh." He pressed his lips together and remained quiet.

"Go on. I know what you're not saying. Call your mom." She might as well get it over with. The shit was about to hit the fan anyway.

"You sure?" he asked, suddenly compliant. Too much so.

Was he not completely heartless after all and did care what she was feeling?

Pfft. Nah. That wasn't it.

It was more likely he'd taken what she'd said to heart. That in a town full of nosy bodies who loved to gossip and judge, they both might be seen as culpable.

In which case they'd face the firing squad together.

She shook her head. "It's okay. Go ahead. Make the call."

He put down his Mountain Dew and pulled the cell out of his pocket… and she braced herself for the worst.

Josie watched as Corey tapped the screen to call his mom.

As she waited for the woman to answer she realized she'd gripped the soda bottle so tight the soda was beginning to bubble over. She slurped at it before it made a mess while listening to hear what he said.

"Mom. Hey. So I'm here at the library, up in the archives… Yes, I gave the keys to Josie. Just like you asked. But she had a question for you. She wanted to know if the historical society ever takes the objects out of the archive room for any reason… I don't know. I think it's for her research. For the uh…"

Corey glanced at her, wide eyed. His unspoken plea for help hung in the air. He might be a tough guy and a bad boy, but when it came to lying to his mother, he seemed to revert back to a helpless little boy.

"Website," she mouthed.

"For the website," he rushed to say. "I, uh, guess she's getting into the care and handling of historical artifacts. People are interested in that kind of stuff." He glanced at Josie and shrugged.

She nodded, impressed with his ad lib. The smooth-talking player was back, proving he'd had lots of practice in that role.

But none of that was of consequence at this moment in time.

What did matter was he hadn't outright told his mother that the compass was missing. Which was huge since she was on the board of the historical society.

It seemed he was feeling his mother out instead. And as much as Josie wanted to continue to hate him, she was too relieved to right now.

"So, um, Mom, would the historical society ever take the founder's compass out and like bring it to school for show-and-tell or anything like that? Or maybe bring it to a jeweler or somebody for restoration or an appraisal?"

He was quiet as he listened and Josie held her breath waiting for the answer she couldn't hear. Currently the only sound was the pounding of her own pulse in her ear and the chugging of the ancient A/C unit in the window.

"So then, no?" Corey finally said.

He shot Josie a glance filled with what looked like the same emotions she was feeling. Mainly disappointment with a good dose of panic mixed in.

"Okay. Got it. Thanks, Mom… Mmm-hmm. See you later… Love you. Bye."

Corey's chest expanded beneath his T-shirt as he lowered the cell from his ear and tapped the screen to disconnect the call. Then his gaze met hers.

"School's out for the summer but even during the school year, they bring the classes here to the archives to see the stuff rather than bringing the artifacts to the school."

"Oh." Her heart fell a little bit further. Not that it had all that far to fall. She was at pretty much rock bottom.

"And the appraiser already looked at the compass to evaluate it, back when it was donated, so there would be no reason for anyone to want to look at it again." He drew in a breath and met her gaze. "At least not until the set-up for the event, when the compass was supposed to be on display for all the attendees to see inside the custom showcase a local craftsman already built. It's stored in my mom's garage."

"Oh," she said again as with every word he uttered the situation seemed more dire.

"Sorry." He cringed.

"Don't be. It's not your fault." She shook her head and met his gaze again. "You didn't tell her."

It was a statement, not a question even though she had plenty of questions about this particular topic. Why hadn't he told?

Corey drew in a breath and let it out with a loud whoosh . "Nope."

"Why not?" she asked, more than a little curious and confused.

Jaw set, he suddenly looked determined. "Because we're going to find this thing ourselves."

She felt her brows rise high. "How?"

"The gas station across the street has exterior security cameras. I saw them when I was over there buying the sodas. They face the street and library. So we ask to see the footage. I'm also going to check around here to see if the library has any cameras, inside or outside. That might give us some clue as to who else was in here."

"Besides me," Josie said miserably.

"Besides you, because I know you didn't take it…even if you did basically accuse me."

"I did not. I said the town might though."

"I know. And I hate to say it, but you could be right. Which is why we're going to do everything we can do first."

He sounded so confident. It was almost infectious.

Enough so it sparked the tiniest glimmer of hope inside her. "Okay. Yeah. That would be good. With the cameras, we could see if anyone came and went after I did yesterday."

"Mmm-hmm. And we'll look at the locks. See if they look like they've been jimmied open or not."

"So we'll know if the person had a key or broke in," she said, completing his thought.

"Exactly," he agreed.

"This might actually work," she said, afraid to let the hope inside her grow.

"It might. But if it doesn't—" There was warning in his tone.

"I know. We'll have to tell them."

He nodded. "But we have a lot to do before then so come on. Let's get started."

And with that, it looked like Josie had entered into a deal with the devil. Only at the moment Corey seemed somehow less evil. Just as he had while cuddling the kittens. Just like he had when he'd told his mother he loved her.

Dammit. She hated when she had to change her opinion of something. But there was no doubt, it was getting harder to hate Corey Jacobs.